In hindsight we always know better
by saladhawk
Summary: Harry has a fanclub and Snape has a problem. When finding a drawn picture showing you being... intimate... with your worst enemy what would you do? Right. Gross!
1. thinking back

Disclamer: This thing is called fanfiction. Fan-Fiction. Ofcourse Harry Potter does not belong to me, you dope! ;)

**:3 :D :p :3 :D :p :3 :D :p :3 :D :p**

**Chapter 1: thinking back**

Looking back on that fateful day for Severus Snape was always accompanied by a considerable amount of the deepest self loathing. Of all the horrible mistakes he had done throughout his life, the old saying applied to this one like to no other:

_He should have known better._

At night, when peacefully stalking the darkened hallways of Hogwarts in search of the walking stress relievers, dutifully referred to by the staff as students, though devil only knew, how those brainless masses of quidditsch-obsessed, hormone-crazed, acne-faced teenagers could bear such a descripion, he would occasionally stumble over a small gathering of giggling female Hufflepuffs. And that was what would remind him day after day: After all the years he had been teaching those dangerous enigmas…

_He should have known better._

He still rememberd the way that day had started.

The early morning had found him in his chambers. But unlike his usual days, on that particular day he was not to be found alone. The pleasent company he had found himself in was that of a particulary nasty cold. Member of the Order of the Phoenix, most feared Professor of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, Head of Slytherin House Snape did not have colds! But the middleaged man that was Severus Snape obviously did.

Feeling utterly humilated and ashamed of himself he had taken what had to be the first irregular day off he had ever had in his time as a teacher. Ofcourse, considering the bad significance of such a day,

_He really should have known better._

He had spent the day in his chambers, moodily brewing his own medicin, as noone aside from the headmaster, who in turn did not have the time for such trivialities, had taken it upon themselves to offer him any help. He would not have accepted it, naturally, no, he would have laughed them in the face for offering HIM help with BREWING, but the fact that noone had tried was depressing none the less. It were, after all, the little things, that counted.

It was, therefore, one extremely bad tempered, albeit potion-healed, potions master, that was stalking down the halls on that very Tuesday afternoon after curfew.

Twenty points from Ravenclaw, thirty five points from Hufflepuff, sixty eight points from Griffyndor and nine hysterical students later Severus Snape was on his last strall towards the Great Hall, thinking of calling it a night after that last check up. Mind you, his ever so strong feeling of duty alone was guiding him toward such a destination, since not even the most incompetent student in the history of Hogwarts had ever managed to demonstrate such a lack of brain power, as to choose that place as a hideout for the night. Not once. Not until then.

All things considered, the very presence of faint girlish giggling in one of the side corridors should have sent him screaming and kicking back to his dungeons to never emerge from again until the next day arrived. Reality, being the bitch she was, would have had none of that.

Come morning students would blame the deadly shrieks of that night on the many ghosts inhabiting the old castle. Severus on the other hand would never forget the combined scream of several petrified Hufflepuffs. Amazing, what his shadow together with the right lighting could do to a bunch of students.

If gifted with the slightest traces of intelligence, that brown haired girl would not have dropped The Paper. If given the smallest amount of intuition, he would have ignored the panic striken glances of the four scared girls as his hand had picked up the object.

He knew it the moment his snarl had left his lips. He knew it the very second his eyes had strayed to the offending thing. And he knew it too late:

He. Should. Have. Known. Better.

**:3 :D :p :3 :D :p :3 :D :p :3 :D :p**

For those of you who did not get it: Severus hereby has officially found The Picture. Let's see his reaction in the next chapter, shall we?

If you find any mistakes in my writing, let me know. I know I have them.

I really should get a beta reader, but on the other hand my writing isn't actually worth the trouble. XD R&R if you like. ;)

Anyway…

Next:

chapter 2 Gross! Snape's drawing smutt?!

Snape finds the picture. And Harry finds… ;D


	2. Gross! Snape's drawing smutt!

Welcome back! :)

**Chapter 2: Gross! Snape's drawing smutt?!  
**

It was a cheerfully bright morning. Droplets of dew were glittering in the early rays of sun, birds were chirping from the green of trees and invisible feet were printing very visible trails into the freshly grown grass.

Trails, one Severus Snape had blissfully decided to ignore.

The day was a Sunday and a Hogsmeade weekend to boot. A day for Hogwarts' students to uselessly waste their time with an utterly disgusting phenomena, they gradually called 'fun'. Time, which could be spent with actually learning something usefull for their otherwise completely worthless lifes, was being thrown away in favour of aimlessly walking the streets of a small but prophit-greedy town and getting drunk with butterbeer (or stronger liquids in special cases he did not wish so think about).

Granted, most of them didn't learn a thing during lessons anyway.

The only thought, that posessed the capacity of cheering him up on such a horribly happy day was, of course, the thought of one Harry Potter. The boy, if you were to call an arrogant and self centered pile of brainless mush a boy, was probably about the only one his age, who was not allowed to join his petty friends in their headless town-roaming. He had, after all, no post criminal godfather to be pampered by anymore and thus no permission to leave the safe grounds of the school.

This simple fact not only made the lifes of the members of The Order so much easier, since they no longer had to follow every trail of that arrogant whelp, who was simply bound to get into trouble anytime he got out of sight, it also made the boy depressed and so much more fun to be around. Yes. This kind of 'fun' he understood.

The very fun, that had used to lighten up his days so far, had gotten a bitter aftertaste over the past few weeks, however.

That tasteless, offending picture, he had so unwillingly obtained and should have never put his eyes upon some weeks ago, was still lying unattanded in a dusted corner of his office. Once confiscated, it had been dragged off to his working place and thrown away in utter disgust. The problem with such a course of action, was his lack of ability to get rid of the thing afterwards. As painfully learned from humilative experience, the faithfull producer of the Drawing of Hell had protected his work from hexes, as well as from any physical ways of harm and had done so with surprising efficiency. As a result neither ripping apart, nor dissolving potions, nor even incendio had put so much as a scratch on the damnable piece of perchament.

Adding it to the trash it was, was no option, since throwing away an undesctructable drawing of himself doing unthinkable things to his most hated student, awakened a great sense of forboding, if not well-founded paranoia in the depths of his shriveling heart. Aside from that, even touching the damnable thing caused him a great deal of disgust.

The less outlet Severus got, the more grumpy he became. And since punishing Harry Potter was still a nice, if not as efficient as ever, way of getting rid of his grumpiness, Severus decided to engulf his mind in the creation of evilness he would succumb to in his classes, thus missing a virtual chance of actually catching the object of those evil plans at the scene of the crime.

**:3 :D :p :3 :D :p:3 :D :p:3 :D :p**

"You did it!" came the cheerful voice of George Weasley. Hogsmeade Weekend was a busy time for the shop, that had once belonged to Zonko's and had now wandered into the hands of the mischievous Weasley twins. But it had been closed for an hour anyway, in order to allow the owners to greet their long missed friends and little brother.

"Of course he did, this is Harry after all!" declared Ron in the proud baritone he had obtained over the last summer.

"I can't believe you actually went through with it! You're not a third year anymore, Harry, you should show more responsibility of your actions! Besides, if anyone of the staff had seen you, they would have thrown you in detention for months!"

"Aw, bugger off Hermione. It's not the first time he's sneaked out like that, he can't get caughed with all the practice he's had. Right, mate?"

"Right." Stated a grinning Harry Potter, who had managed to sneak off right in front of his most feared proffessor's remarkably large nose.

"Even the greasy git didn't spot me. There's nothing to worry about in this."

Besides, if he hadn't done what he had, he wouldn't have been able to see Fred and George again this soon.

As irresponsible as they had been with their studies, Hogwarts' most famous pranksters of the time had become completely obsessed with their work, once they had found something that fit their interests. Knowing the twins from their time at school, Harry hadn't been surprised by the amount of time, both spent with developing and testing of new pranks. But the duo's devotion to the task had resulted in them spending the whole summer at their shop in Hogsmeade – not even coming back to the Burrow when Harry had come to visit during the last two weeks of summer holiday.

They looked presentable now, their clothes marking them as the first rich Weaslies in centuries without the need for words. Harry sometimes wondered, what the ambitious Percy would have had to say about this, were he interested in his family's business. It was the seeking of money and power, after all, that had separated the now completely Fudge-devoted man from his kin.

"So, how is school going for you, oh adept ones?" Asked Fred, his comment clearly dripping with sarcasm, although it might have been quite fair, as far as Hermione was concerned.

"Quite the same as ever. No Voldemorty appearences as of yet, though Snape" and here the group released a common shudder "makes a point of making up for that."

"Yeah! The git's personality is getting more ugly by the minute! Imagine the nerve, taking 25 points from Harry for accidently sneezing in class! 'Don't distribute the dangerous boy-heroness, you seem to have irreversably fallen victim to, in my classroom' he said! He's all but stripping him points for breathing now!"

"And that, Ron, is exactly why I'm telling you to be careful. You never know what he'll do, if he actually gets a reason to!"

"Well… Maybe he simply likes Harry in his own, twisted kind of way!"

The eyes of everyone in the group had wandered to Fred in shock, who had long since given his twin a mischievieous grin, that was being reacted to at the moment. "Fred's right. You never know. Remember that self obsessed guy, we had as a teacher for the DADA classes in your second year? Well HE had been goggling at this really cute girl Amanda Bearpaw from sixth year all the time. They found some dirty pictures drawn with pencils in his office right after he was brought to St Mungo's. Turned out he really was obsessed with the poor lad. They wouldn't have recognized it for what it was if he hadn't labeled every one of them, though. The guy was that bad of a draftsman."

"So now I'm being compared to a 'really cute girl', eh George? Thanks a lot for that!" teased Harry, feigning hurt.

While quite surprisd by their former teacher's hidden nature, no one actually believed Snape to have any secret fancy for Harry Potter. So after laughing a bit at the suggestion and telling the twins off for trying to scare them with nonsense, the trio bid the pranksters goodbye and made their way back to Hogwarts.

It wasn't until long after curfew, while lying in his bed, drifting on the brink between sleep and awareness, that Harry allowed himself to wonder, if his professor's constant hatred of him could be defined as a kind of obsession as well…

**:3 :D :p :3 :D :p:3 :D :p:3 :D :p**

Quite and private, but unnerving it was. Seeing how the boy had missed two whole days of 'fun' with his friends, he should have been far more depressed and far less… smiley. If Severus Snape really was to relieve some pent up tension that day, a happy Harry Potter simply wouldn't do.

"Potter!" a snarl, a well aimed glare.

"Yes sir?" Better.

"What do you think you are doing?! Ten points from Griffyndor and detention at eight pm with me."

"What ?! But why?"

"For being too happy over a potion too botched up!"

Aside from torturing Potter, Severus always felt a certain statisfaction over giving his Slytherins a nice laugh.

**:3 :D :p :3 :D :p:3 :D :p:3 :D :p**

"I can't believe the git has gone that far! _Detention_ for smiling! For _smiling_, for Merlin's sake!"

"Maybe he found it strange, that Harry would be smiling this much after missing out on the Hogsmeade weekend" offered Hermione with a meaningful voice.

"Please! He could be smiling because of a mutual crush on some pretty girl for all that petty bat knows! Don't worry Harry. If you aren't back by curfew, we are going to send a search party. In case the git's gotten jealous of that crush of yours, you know."

"Wha… oh. Thanks." And here he had all but forgotten everything about _that_. But Ron just had to make fun of him at a time like this. With a condemned sigh Harry turned from his so very loyal friends and headed for the dungeons.

The door was open, but he knocked anyway.

No answer followed. And here he was on time. It was a trap, he knew, to prolongue his stay, for either entering without invitation, or being late for detention. No matter what he did, he knew, he was doomed. Being the Griffyndor he was, Harry entered.

Contrary to all of his expectations, the room, that presented itself before him, was empty. No snarky comments, no evil glares, were there, to meet him halfway.

The last time he had found himself in Snape's desserted office was the day, the pensieve accident had occurred. He wouldn't be caughed sniffing around again.

Maybe he should leave and come back at a better time. He turned to the door and started walking.

But. Hadn't Snape said something about a test tomorrow? Harry wouldn't have had any time to study after detention, but now that his professor wasn't around… What if the working sheets were still there? It may have been unfair under any other circumstances, but hadn't Snape stripped him of more than enough points for no reason already? Maybe just a little peak…

He catiously neared the working desk. But would the cunning, devoius Snape let a test for his newt class simply lie around on his desk with the door to his office wide open? If it was even there at all, it would have to be somewhere else.

There was a dusted shelve in a corner of the room. Sure, it looked like noone had touched it in years, but wouldn't that be the perfect disguise for the given task? And wasn't that an unfamiliar, but new looking piece of perchament?

Harry was at the shelve in a flash. Fighting down all that was left of his Griffyndor nobility for the sake of the overwhelming exitedment, he grabbed the piece of perchament and pulled it to his face.

The heavy steps behind his back were tuned out by the sight, that met his eyes.

Well, at least this one was well drawn.

**:3 :D :p :3 :D :p:3 :D :p:3 :D :p**

I'm sorry about not updating for a while, but I have fallen ill, so I couldn't write a thing. Anyway I have written a really long chapter now… well, it's really long for me, anyway. XD Thanks for the revieves on the last chap! :)

By the way: the layout I used on the last chapter didn't work out for some reason sniff so I'm trying another one. I sure hope, this one looks better now…

Anyway: R&R if you like

Next:

chapter 3 the fanclub of doom

Help! Snape a pervert? Harry a cute girl?! Enter the fanclub of doom. Please don't call the doctor. ;)


End file.
